It will eventually be believed
by ProcrastinationIsMyCrime
Summary: After years of being called an idiot by Arthur with a fading, jesting tone, Merlin's faith in destiny and himself is failing. How will he ever convince his king to allow magic to be used for good if Arthur never listens? Venturing outside late one night to clear his head, Merlin discovers an alarming revelation that changes everything. Between S4 and S5. Higher rating later on. R
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Hi all, was originally a one-shot that was inspired by a mixture of Merlin fics but when I read a sentence containing this fic's title it just hit me like a ton of bricks. Depending on the reception I might extend this to a multi-chapter fic, which I've now decided I will.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Merlin**

**I dedicate this chapter to ALittleBitofEverything101 **

Summary: After years of being called an idiot by Arthur with a fading, jesting tone, Merlin's faith in destiny and himself is failing. How will he ever convince his king to allow magic to be used for good if Arthur never listens? Venturing outside late one night to clear his head, Merlin discovers an alarming revelation that changes everything. Between S4 and S5. Higher rating later on. R&R

It will eventually be believed

By ProcrastinationIsMyCrime

It was late into the night as Merlin stood atop the southern gatehouse, looking out towards the forest that surround the city of Camelot like a ring of green fire as the strong winds whipped the trees this way and that making them appear to be alive. He sighed in resignation as his thoughts wandered back to the events of the past few months.

Ever since the drama of reclaiming Camelot back for the second time a few months ago there'd only been a couple of skirmishes, which he'd naturally secretly participated in; with bandits when they'd dared to venture too close to Camelot; with thieves and slave traders attacking the outlying villages. So many times his suggestions had been brushed aside by Arthur just before the fighting started.

Perhaps they weren't as good as he'd thought they'd been, otherwise the king might have considered them. After all, he'd been serving the prince-turned-king for six years and should be trusted by said royal, but it didn't seem to be the case. The only one in Camelot that seemed to pay attention to his word and do or at least say something, was Gaius, but it wasn't the same. Gaius was his guardian so of course he'd be more inclined to think about all that he'd say.

Thinking about the physician made thoughts of what he'd be in for in the morning. Gaius would skin him alive. Or more than likely make him drink a revolting concoction as _a precaution_, under the guise of a possible cold so his visit to Ealdor wouldn't be a miserable one. No doubt a reprimand for the guaranteed worry he was bound to cause the aged physician, for not returning after he'd been dismissed by Arthur for the night. He'd finally given Merlin permission, more like ordered him, to take a few weeks off, maybe he'd gotten sick of his 'idiocy'.

The warlock leaned against the stone structure on his elbows. Arthur had known him for six years; had been calling him an idiot for six years. Sure, at the beginning of it all his king called him one in jest often and with an endearing quality, but for some time now however it had lost that friendly edge as Arthur went through his many trials and Merlin truly believed that Arthur believed he seriously was an idiot.

Merlin was beginning to believe that he _was_ an idiot, for there must be something he's constantly doing wrong to earn that title. As time had continued on the frequency of Merlin hearing 'idiot' being used in association, or instead of his name rose, and the level of regard Arthur paid to Merlin's advice when in dangerous situations fell. Especially after his master had been crowned king by Geoffrey.

Once in a blue moon he'd listen, but shortly afterwards he'd claim that Merlin was having one of his 'rare, wise moments', and resume waving off any other advice as stupid or being a girl's petticoat. The only time he ever listened was if they were alone or the last ones conscious in trouble, and even then more than half the time Arthur'd disregarded it. Before he'd been crowned king Arthur had called him a friend, but by then Merlin truly thought that Arthur saw him as a clumsy halfwit.

Worried someone would come upon the guard and discover him, Merlin released the sleeping spell he'd used on the guard and teleported to the clearing where he'd faced Kilgharrah all those years ago. The lull in the danger and haste Merlin frequently found himself in made his loneliness stick out like a sore thumb. How even Gwen had changed and in a sense left him behind, he understood she was Queen of Camelot and had her duties, but was it too much to ask for her to pay him a social visit? Or was he not worth her time?

Her climb from servant to queen was a large one and public image was a part of her duties and needed to be maintained but was he, Merlin, an assumed idiot, a stain on her image she needed to wash out? They saw each other during the day, true, but they were times when they were both in the company of Arthur or Merlin completing a chore the king had ordered, they weren't real moments together.

The knights were kept occupied following the orders of one sort or another. If it wasn't a patrol that Arthur wasn't a part of then it was training. Gwaine might as well marry The Rising Sun considering the frequency he went and how he continually tried to coax Merlin into coming. But that wasn't an option for Merlin, since as Gaius had put it years ago, 'A whiff of a barmaid's apron would have him singing like a sailor'.

He couldn't risk that, couldn't risk the high probably that he'd spill his most dangerous secret. Merlin was no fool.

Looking up to the stars, he remembered the couple of times that he'd been astride Kilgharrah in the night sky and the somewhat sense of fitting in when in the Great Dragon's company. He missed the presence of his kin and simply wanted some companionship, but knowing that Kilgharrah was more than likely occupied doing whatever he spends his time doing, let's not forget that he wasn't much of the aimless talking type. No matter how cryptic he could be sometimes.

He thought about Aithusa whom he'd hatched little over a year ago and hadn't seen since. Focussing his thoughts on the white dragon, he spoke the words in the dragon tongue.

"_O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes!"_

Settling down against the trunk of a tree he closed his deep blue eyes and like Gaius cautiously pouring a volatile or strong acting ingredient, Merlin slowly weakened his instinctive hold on his magic and let it run free; the wildflowers in the area became more vibrant; the grass turned a healthy green and shoots grew in upturned dirt; the trees took on a stronger look as the weaker branches grew slightly, strengthening their connection with the trunks.

Magic could do so much good for this kingdom if it was used in the right way, but he knew that he'd missed his chance multiple times, each time worse than the last mistake. So few opportunities he'd been given and for every one of them he'd messed up, the possibility of Arthur coming to accept 'good' magic further distanced itself. The persistent attacks from Morgana hadn't help in his endeavor and only increased the width of the crevice between freeing magic-users and Arthur.

Oh how much Merlin yearned for the freedom to do this at any moment, not just when he was in solitude and the cover of darkness. The grip he had to apply to his magic each day and especially during emotional moments served to remind him of what he needed to do. Even in the presence of Gaius in the physician's chamber or his own chambers at late times of night or early morning he was reprimanded for the most innocuous acts of magic that existed.

To simply let go and submerge himself in the natural magic he could sense and enjoy the caring, nurturing feel it gave off as he became one with it. For an immeasurable amount of time Merlin welcomed the rejuvenating quality of nature's magic, relishing in the peaceful, gentle waves of energy as they rolled through his body.

He didn't know how long he'd been lost in his thoughts of what could have been and the peaceful effect that the wild magic had on him, but when he felt a snout prodding at his shoulder he opened his eyes to the sight of an injured white dragon. He was careful not to jump up in alarm at the seeing the dark red blood staining her beautiful, white scales and risk hurting her. Leading the young dragon into the cover of the trees and away from potential watching eyes, he quietly summoned water from a nearby lake and thoroughly washed it off. He took caution, otherwise risk aggravating the wounds, particularly the underbelly which was still partially soft due to her age.

"Aithusa, what happened to you? I thought you were with Kilgharrah, he would never forgive himself if you were injured in his care," he enquired, his voice laced with concern, rubbing her cheek as he looked her in the eyes.

It seemed that Aithusa had only learnt a marginal amount of human speech, however that was quickly solved.

_Flying over a forest Aithusa spotted an injured woman lying on the floor of leaves, branches and dirt, who appeared to be unconscious. Slowly circling down to the ground Aithusa took attentive steps towards the brunette and gently sniffed the air, becoming alarmed at the smell of blood wafting from the body. _

Merlin stiffened slightly at the sight of Morgana near Aithusa but remained quiet and continued to watch.

_Using magic for the first time the dragon breathed onto the woman wishing her to heal and get better. After a day of watching over her she eventually came around and at first was panicked but when she established this magical creature meant no harm, she relaxed._

He was alarmed that Morgana had been healed, but the fact that she hadn't done anything to Camelot and her people for months since Camelot was reclaimed left Merlin a little worried. In the past, if she'd remained quiet for any extended period of time the next moved she made against Arthur was worse than the usual 'kill Arthur' schemes or other attempts to tear the people of the citadel apart.

_For several weeks the witch and Aithusa spent time together and venturing to whatever place Morgana had in mind, however when the memories reached the current night there was an ambush by far too many bandits and Aithusa was forced to flee upon feeling the undeniaable power of a dragonlord's summoning. As the white dragon regrettably flew away from the scene below, Morgana's screams of betrayal pierced Aithusa's heart and saddened her when the raging woman was knocked unconscious and chained with manacle baring the markings of the Old Religion._

Merlin was stunned. Never had he ever thought that Aithusa would become acquaintances with the vengeful Pendragon, and was unnerved at what could have become of Aithusa if she'd spent any more time with Morgana. All young beings were impressionable and he could only hope that the witch hadn't gotten her figurative claws too deeply into Aithusa's mind and manipulate one of Camelot's - no _Albion's_ greatest hopes.

He again released his control on his magic, but this time did so with the intent on healing as he dug deep inside himself, even if this type of magic wasn't one of those that he was best at he could still help somewhat. At least he could do something right

He'd think that after Arthur and himself either getting injured or being involved with those injured he would have studied healing magic as a precaution should medical help be needed. But no, he hadn't done as much as he should've and left himself and company at a disadvantage. After a while the most prominent injuries had healed and closed, stemming the blood flow, leaving Aithusa with superficial cuts. He could clean them with water to help prevent infection, but it seemed that the young dragon had beaten him to it, and the cuts slowly closed as Aithusa used both Merlin's and her own magic to finish the job.

Crafting a rough looking piece of parchment from a few pieces of bark with magic and using a colour changing spell to make the parchment into a letter, he summoned a raven to deliver it to Gaius but in the Old Tongue ordered it to wait until dawn. He'd told Gaius, when he almost literal ran into him whilst the physician was on his rounds, that he'd been ordered to take extended time off and he'd pack and take his travelling pack after work for the day.

Initially he would be making his way for Ealdor in the early morning but he doubted that a dragon could be kept in the forest near the village and not draw attention, especially one as young as Aithusa. He would have collected it tonight, but there was no way he was going to let Aithusa out of his sight after learning of what had occurred and how she'd nearly been captured.

It was clear that Aithusa wasn't about to become tired and nor was Merlin himself, if he was to be honest. Walking through the Darkling Woods using a spell that created a dome of silence, he kept the dragon close and by the time the sun was just starting to peek out from the horizon, they were on open ground and heading towards The Vale of Denaria. To the north of the vale was a ruined castle, the one where the Knights of the Round Table was formed, if he wasn't mistaken.

Given that he wanted to keep close to Camelot in case he was needed against vengeful sorcerers, the ruined castle was probably most suitable for both of them considering that Aithusa wasn't too big to navigate the inside just yet. The closer he was to Camelot the less energy he'd need for teleporting to the catacombs, and leave him with more for fighting if things came to that.

The White Mountains would have been closer but Aithusa could be seen at any moment by anyone, from a patrol to a peasant, and the last thing he needed was for the young dragon to be on the run from the knights of Camelot. On a much smaller note the White Mountains, probably would give him a cold.

As they continued on towards the ruined castle they remained in silent company, but when they had breakfast Merlin shared some of his happier memories with Aithusa, smiling when her eyes glinted with humour. She may not know the words but interaction between people alone was enough to tell most of any story. The goblin incident seemed to be one of her favourites, especially when Arthur was braying like a donkey.

As they journeyed to their destination he started working on her human speech; beginning with simple words and only a few at a time. Telepathy and memory sharing did wonders as he projected the image of an object and said the word aloud. Aithusa, however, seemed to be having trouble with pronunciation but could repeat it back with her mind. After quite some time of verbal speech being dead set against him and Aithusa, he settled for images and telepathy, but still said them aloud himself the first few times.

He knew she could look after herself, however for lunch Merlin made a game out of gathering the food; he would only pick up or hunt something if Aithusa could tell him the name. Although it took some time and much rumbling of stomachs before they had sufficient food for both of them, the game was quite productive and the little dragon had increased its vocabulary by triple. Increasing it to thirty words since they'd started this morning.

As his rabbit meat hovered over the fire cooking, Aithusa ate her meats raw but seemed to care about, only marginally but still cared, how she consumed her food. Rather than eat it eagerly like a child would have their favourite snack, Aithusa ate in a more reserved manner.

Discreetly observing the dragon eat whilst pretending to be watching his meat cook, he came to a conclusion whilst Aithusa happily ate. It was just like Morgana before she betrayed Camelot to Morgause so long ago. He wasn't sure how to feel about that small piece of information, and could only hope that that was the only influence the witch had on the white dragon.

By the time they reached the castle the sun was beginning to set and they made quick work of finding dinner, deciding to forego the 'name game', as they'd called it. While Aithusa had the fish from a nearby river and Merlin chewed on the berries he'd foraged not too far away.

And so this is how Merlin intended to spend his two weeks. In a ruined castle in the company of the dragon that he'd summon from the egg, working hard to strengthen the bond between them as dragonlord and dragon. Emrys and Light of the sun. Merlin and Aithusa.

As the days passed he filled them with happy experiences, learning experiences and everything in between. On the second last day of his time off Aithusa surprised him whilst they were eating their dinner after he'd finished scrying Arthur, Gwen, Gaius and the knights for the third time that day. Breakfast, lunch and dinner.

He had to check to keep his ever-lasting concern at bay.

"Merlin, I feel what you feel. I don't understand why I do, but I do, and if there is one thing that I know, it is that there will always be obstacles. Arthur doesn't know what you do for him, but things won't get better unless you tell him the truth," the white dragon explained aloud sympathetically "Just as things would have been difficult between us if you hadn't explained and shown me in your memories what Morgana truly is capable of and what she is to the people of Camelot,"

"I'd have tried to find her if you hadn't been honest, and that would have lead me to believe you were heartless and I'd have hate you for keeping me from my first friend, not seeing her for the cruel being she is," Bumping her snout against his shoulder before taking off towards her dais she said one last thing for the night "You've shown me nearly your whole life in Camelot and with Arthur, Merlin, and he obviously cares about you, in his own way,"

"I know you want to prove to him you're more than he thinks, I feel it, and to do that you will need to fight the title he has given you. I don't know what I'd do to start that fight but you will come up with something Merlin. I believe in you,"

He was touched that Aithusa had such faith in him, but the bitter feeling of doubt was creeping back into his mind as he reminded him of all of his failures when trying to achieve something of much more significance than fixing a reputation.

As Merlin stood atop the damaged tower where they'd eaten that night and looked to the south he wondered if he'd ever prove to Arthur that he wasn't an idiot.

Total buffoon, ridiculous, a girl, on the cider, completely useless, dumb; and that was only half a dozen of the other names that Arthur had dished out, but they all related back to one in particular.

_Idiot_

Would the king ever think of him as more than a stupid servant?

**A/N Yeah I know this kinda drifted towards Aithusa there but I love that dragon and wanted to save her in this fic. A byproduct from the point in time I chose for this one-shot, if you will. If you happen across an error feel free to let me know and I'll see to it ASAP.**

**To my HP GPS fans: I know, I know, I haven't update a new chapter in forever and have got that fic on HIATUS but I just needed a break from study for like 5 tests and editing needs to be done first, so you'll have to wait until at least Easter before I continue writing GPS. Sorry, but I hope you understand. In my defence I've edited up to chapter 6.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Hi everyone, thanks for reading my fic and I've decided to continue. Just a confession; I'm watching S4 as I'm writing this so if I make a mistake in a statement don't hesitate to point it out.**

**3 review, 9 follows, and 12 favourites and 485 hits. Wow I've got to say I'm surprised considering chapter one was done on a whim. Thanks guys!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin**

"Blah" normal speech

'Blah' quote

"_Blah" emphasised words/telepathy/flashback dialogue_

_Blah thoughts_

XXXXXX new scene

_Previously…._

He was touched that Aithusa had such faith in him but the bitter feeling of doubt was creeping back into his mind as he reminded himself of all of his failures when trying to achieve something much more significant than fixing a reputation.

As Merlin stood atop the damaged tower where they'd eaten that night and looked to the south he wondered if he'd ever prove to Arthur that he wasn't an idiot.

Total buffoon, ridiculous, a girl, on the cider, completely useless, dumb; and that was only half a dozen of the other names that Arthur had dished out, but they all related back to one in particular.

_Idiot_

Would the king ever think of him as more than a stupid servant?

**It will eventually be believed**

**By ProcrastinationIsMyCrime**

Chapter 2 - I'm just his servant.

In a few hours his break would be over and with the sunrise his work would resume. In a few hours he'd waking up the prat, and knowing him the first thing he'll want to do for the day is training just to make Merlin's first day back miserable. "Yeah, that'd be right," Merlin thought out loud.

Aithusa who was flying overhead as they wondered aimless on the open ground where they could see hilly terrain for leagues and not a village in sight. "Why do you say that, Merlin?"

"Mmm?" he looked up and realised "Oh, nothing Aithusa. I was just thinking of the day ahead that's all," he sighed, before facing the cluster of trees to the south. "The prat gives me so much to do every day. More than even I can handle, let alone some other servant…And I use magic!"

As Aithusa landed in front of him he stared into her bright, youthful eyes "Arthur won't ever realise he has it wrong about me. I'm an idiot to him. I've always been and always will be. It's just so- I just- How am I to prove to him I'm not an idiot if I can't show him who I really am? A stupid, useless servant," he finished on a frustrated note.

"Don't feel so down Merlin, nothing is impossible, difficult maybe, but not impossible. It will take time; Arthur's view was solid around the time you hatched me. Close to one and a half years ago. The barrier will be strong and persistence will be important. This reputation may never fully go away, but if you truly want something you must fight for it, never relax your efforts,"

Merlin nodded solemnly as he realised the length of the road ahead to his goal, and looked in the direction of Camelot, thinking of the king not much older than himself. During Agravaine's presence in the royal household and the constant whispers in Arthur's ear, had been very demoralising, especially the King Caerleon incident when he favoured the advice from an uncle he barely knew over a friend and servant who'd served him for so long. It had cut him pretty deep…

"_So please…stick to what you do know."_

"_What is _wrong_ with you? Why can't you just ever let me be?"_

"_I appreciate that, in your very confused way, you're only trying to help but please, don't do it again."_

He had his work cut out for him. Merlin admitted that Arthur had apologised for not listening to him at the end of that fiasco, but the deed was done and the value placed on Merlin's word was lacking. Only at the end of things did it hit Arthur he should have listened, however he proceeded to ignore him.

Aithusa could sense her dragonlord's mood descending into low spirits, and steered the conversation towards her embarrassing experiences as a hatchling whilst she was with Kilgharrah. It worked for the most part but she could still spot it, although only slightly, in his eyes, but didn't comment on it.

xxxxxx

Walking through the quiet of the lower town in the early morning Merlin hastened his way to Arthur's chambers. Arthur could be unpredictable or simply a pain; early morning training; sleep in; regular wake up, but if he had to guess the prat would probably have chosen early morning training. Detouring through the training grounds Arthur didn't disappoint; Merlin spotted the prat and the remaining four Knights of the Round Table practicing their swordcraft on the dummies as the regular warm up.

"Ah, Merlin. You're on time," Arthur said at the sight of his manservant entering the grounds. "There's a first time for everything, I suppose," he commented before turning to Gwaine and getting into a neutral stance.

"Well, don't get used to it," Merlin called out over the clanging from the clashes of steel meeting steel.

"Because you're incapable of doing anything right twice?" Arthur suggested whilst focussing on keeping Gwaine at bay.

"Because getting up before this hour isn't my idea of fun," he replied, hoping Arthur wasn't getting any twisted thoughts.

"Well you have a problem there, Merlin. You see, you're my servant and I decide _what_ we do and_ when_ we do it, so you don't have a choice in the matter," came the response, with 'choice' being punctuated with the thump of Gwaine on his back.

"Come now Princess, I find it hard to believe," Gwaine commented whilst getting up to spar with him again, "Not unless Merlin dragged you by the feet every morning, but I don't think he will if his remarks about your socks are any indication."

Merlin hid his smile as he turned to prepare the crossbows and targets. He couldn't imagine himself doing that either, and the king's sock _really_ did stink. As he reflected on what Arthur had said upon his arrival, the only quip he'd received was a light one about repeat performances._ It wasn't bound to last long though_.

"Merlin," Arthur called in a carrying voice, just as the warlock finished setting the targets up. "The stables need to be mucked out. My chambers need cleaning. My clothes need washing. And my armour needs polishing," Arthur listed as the knights were switching to archery. "Don't forget to clean it first!"

Merlin groaned quietly. He'd thought he'd been lucky concerning Arthur's armour, however when he realised Arthur wasn't wearing his usual set, he signed. _Of course the prat had to do that_.

Before he could be given more chores Merlin left the training grounds and made for the king's chambers where Arthur tended to leave a long list on his desk for his manservant. _Barely back five minutes and a mountain of chores._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Camelot had been quiet for nearly a month since his return and Merlin was beginning to get edgy; it wasn't normal to have such peace, no matter how desired.

In the council chambers Arthur was discussing politics and taxes with the lords, who ruled portions of Camelot under their King, when a runner entered the room through a side door and exchanged whispers with Arthur. Merlin watched the barely audible conversation, looking for hints of trouble and he found some, however it didn't appear to be great due to a look of annoyance rather than distain and concern. _Bandits or thieves most likely._

Catching the eye of Arthur, Merlin nodded to him before leaving the chambers to track down the Round Table knights and prepare the horses.

Jogging to the stables he nearly ran into one of the boys there, who just chuckled at his antics "You're going to hit your head on the stone one of these days, Merlin," however he quickly realised Merlin was in a hurry, and not because he was running late "What do you need?"

"Six horses, packed for a week's journey myself, Arthur and four Knights. I'll help you once I've readied Arthur," Merlin was about to take off again when he remembered Gareth was new "Don't forget the ale!"

Gareth just laughed knowing who he was referring to.

Once he'd found Leon and, surprisingly, Gwaine sparring on the train grounds, Merlin tasked them with finding the other two before dashing off once more.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The six of them had spent two days on horseback and finally made it to the village where bandits had been reported. The village itself was close to the border of Caerleon, meaning they had to ensure they didn't cross it unless they wished to anger Annis. The journey itself was light and easy-going with Arthur and the knights frequent jesting and witty remarks. On the occasion Merlin threw in his own, and when Arthur was the target, he was told to 'shut up', not that it Merlin bothered or anything. In fact, quite often Merlin kept going just to rile him up. The braying donkey was one of Gwaine's favourite pick-on-Arthur stories. Merlin had hell to pay every time that incident was brought up, but he believed that the reaction, embarrassment and jokes were completely worth it.

Rather than alerting the bandits to their presence the six men made camp in the nearby trees, and didn't light a fire so not to attract attention. With Percival on first watch, Merlin settled into his bedroll and pretended to sleep.

"_Aithusa?"_

"_Merlin, what is it? Is something wrong?"_

"_Everything's fine. I'd just like to talk,"_

"_Oh, ok. Want to hear about my flying today?"_

"_Alright, what happened?"_

"_Well, I was chasing this deer when…"_

He listened her talk about her day, adding a remark here and there, simply enjoying the company of his kin. Soon enough he began to relax and could feel sleep beginning to make its claim, and if Aithusa's speed of speech was any indication, it too was claiming her. After exchanging good nights and wishes for sleeping well, Merlin relaxed completely and soon fell into a deep sleep.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He'd been awake for some time before Merlin knew it would be his turn to take watch. As much as he hated it as a sport, Merlin went hunting out of necessity and caught two does with ease, by cheating with magic to find and mercifully kill them, before returning to the camp. With no point in going back to sleep he'd taken a seat next to Arthur, who was currently on watch, and sat with his friend for the sake of it.

Merlin, due to growing up in an outlying village, had much experience in encountering bandits demanding food and goods. Every time they'd been attacked the village leader had been dragged before the chief and threatened with death if they failed to comply. He knew how to get a bandit to let down his guard from his multiple encounters during his life in Ealdor.

"Arthur, I've been in these situations before I came to Camelot," Merlin began, drawing Arthur's attention. "Once they have trapped the villagers they never anticipate another villager showing up, especially bearing want they want," this got Arthur interested. "I could easily pretend to be one of them doing exactly that. Walking into the village carrying a deer or two would certainly distract them," he explained as he gestured at the game he'd caught. "If I carried your crossbow under one of them, it would be easy enough to defeat,"

"That would put you in the thick of it, Merlin. What would we gain?" he asked wearily, rubbing his eyes briefly.

"Saving the leader," he said plainly. "By turning the attention to me it would put them out of danger. Besides," he added, "I've been in swore positions before and came out unharmed,"

"If we did this, what would you suppose the knights and I do?" Arthur asked considering it, not in the mood to make witty remarks.

"Stay within the trees until I signal that the leader is safe, then retake the village," he said, glad Arthur was listening for once. "Sleep on it, Arthur, I'll take the watch from here," he suggested seeing his friend thinking and trying to keep watch simultaneously.

"I'll consider it," he relented as he rested his eyes a moment. "Don't make me regret giving you the watch, Merlin. Or you'll get to know the rotten fruit when we return," Arthur warned his servant before gratefully getting into his bedroll, falling asleep within minutes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

All eyes were on the leader as he entered the village at an angle where he would be between the chief and the village leader, who appeared to be a middle aged mother holding her child closely to her chest. Standing behind the mother was another bandit with a blade touching her throat.

He put his plan into action without delay.

"Mother?" he called out, playing the worried son. "Please, don't hurt her!" he begged the chief, rushing forward as he carried the game, but without a crossbow. The chance of an innocent getting hurt was too high.

The bandits were surprised at this change of events and all looked at their chief until he spoke "I'll take those!" he said gruffly, snatching the young does from Merlin's shoulders near tripping him from the sudden loss of weight. Merlin was grateful he hadn't caught stags.

Giving the lady a quick hug he whispered in her ear "Play along. Help's coming," while making the sword of the bandit behind her to weigh a tonne, forcing him to lower it and stick it into the ground. Lengthening the hug for a moment he cast a sleeping spell on the other bandits, taking caution to make it slow acting.

"Dwyn, you ha-" the leader had begun, however was stopped and braced herself as a large meaty hand was in her line of sight.

With a reddening cheek as he stood in front of the woman, Merlin eyed Dwyn, giving him a look, almost daring him to come closer. The chief obliged, walking to the side of Merlin as he eyed him up.

"Look at this one, defending dear mummy," Dwyn said with a tone of humour, earning a round of chuckles from his followers.

"Am I supposed to be afraid?" he replied with not a hint of intimidation shown, ignoring the dull throb coming from his cheek. "Because I'm not feeling it," he finished cheekily. Chancing a quick glance from the corners of his eyes, he saw the followers were leaning against the hovels, swords in belts.

The bandit didn't like that took much and prodded the point of a dagger into his side for a second without breaking skin. Leaning forwards slightly "Watched your tongue boy before I cut it off," he warned venomously.

Within seconds Dwyn was on the ground thanks to a little magic and an innocent looking root. It was at that exact time when the sound of hooves could be heard.

"Called for help, did we?" the chief sneered angrily once on his feet. Not long after the Camelot knights were upon them.

It happened so quickly. One moment she was standing up to him, the next she fell to the ground as a sword was withdrawn from her body, through the baby. Merlin was devastated.

_Damn it, Arthur!_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Merlin was in a foul mood when they'd finally returned upon defeating the bandits that'd been harassing an outlying village. Once again the prat had ignored his warnings, and because of it a mother and her child had been murdered by the leader. He never listened, until it was too late or Arthur was desperate and had no other choice.

On the ride back none of the knights knew his true mood and the return journey had been no different from the one to the village. Merlin thought he might have let his mask slip once, Percival had given him a surprised look for a moment while he'd had been cooking the knights' stew, but aside from that there hadn't been any sign of them noticing.

During the afternoon and evening Merlin spoke with Aithusa through their minds to keep his mood at bay until night when he could let out his frustration in private. However Arthur pushed him over the edge shortly after dinner.

The entire party who'd gone to the border village had been solemn, quiet and touchy upon their return to Camelot. The king and his servant were no exception.

In the royal chambers the scraping of whetstone on steel and the scratching of a quill filled the silence as the two men sat working without a word. The tension was almost tangible as it continued to fill the room. As he sharpened the blade and the atmosphere thickened, Merlin moved to the window and paused before breaking the routine, placing the whetstone atop the sword, and stared at nothing out the window.

"That woman and baby didn't have to die," he began as he stared into the night. The scratching stopped and a shuffle of leather against fur. "I had it under control and it would have worked," Merlin continued as the incident replayed in his mind.

The blonde instantly got his back up "The bandit was closing in and had his back to me. What was I supposed to think?" Arthur defended as he rose from the desk. A mask slipped over his face hiding his feelings.

"That you can trust me! One second needing a little trust and you come charging in," he countered in frustration.

"How could I? All you know is how to cower behind trees and save your own skin!" the king argued in a hardened tone, taking a few steps towards the irate servant. "If you were a knight and knew how to fight, you wouldn't be so useless. I could trust you more than a servant,"

"That's all I am to you, isn't it?" Merlin said rhetorically striding away from the window, needing space, "A simple-minded servant who's word is nothing but a waste of breath," He looked as though he'd been punched in the stomach. "If only you'd trusted me they would be alive," he rephrased his former comment, hurting radiating from his voice.

Arthur hadn't moved from the window and simply turned "The incident was regrettable, however you've seen death,"

What little control he'd had before, Merlin lost it. "That's not the point, you prat! The situation could have been averted if you'd just listen to me! But nooo my wor-"

"No man is worth your tears. Remember that," Arthur said, but the phrase only made it worse.

"_No_ man, Arthur? What about your father? What about mine?" he asked in anguish. "Both died in our arms, both before it was their time. You mourned Uther, yet you denied me the same,"

"Merlin, what are yo-" Arthur began utterly baffled, before disbelief and shock suddenly took over entirely. "No…Merlin, I-"

"Shut up, Arthur!" he snapped, surprising the king so much that he'd jerked his head back like he'd been slapped. "Time and time again you ignore what I say, what I suggest, and proof that I was right stares you in the face. You never learn, never listen, only to throw it in my face and do the opposite,"

Arthur tried to speak again but Merlin beat him to it.

He was so torn that he just had to get out of there "I don't know why I bothered. You clearly don't need me, or care. So much for the Round Table and 'equality in all things'. You're the king and I'm just an idiot servant after all," Merlin didn't speak for a few minutes to give his friend a chance to defend himself.

What he'd said left Arthur stammering, caught off guard "Don't, Merlin. I…" Arthur trailed off, not knowing how to fix this mess.

'_Don't Merlin'? That's it? _He narrowed his eyes, hurt by his master's lack of defence "So be it," he responded bitterly before whipping around towards the door.

"All those jokes about you being an idiot, I never really meant any of them." Arthur called out when he saw Merlin's shoulders become stiff with anger.

_I'm supposed to believe that?!_ "Don't lie to me, Arthur! I resign!" he shouted in anger before slamming the door to Arthur's chambers shut.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Whether it was shock or Arthur not caring, he didn't pursue Merlin. For that Merlin was grateful, in an odd way, because it made the departure easier. All of his few but precious possessions were gathered and packed in his travel bag, with the exception of the Sidhe staff which was currently invisible to the untrained eye. Whilst the physician chambers were vacant he quickly wrote a letter to Gaius, dried the ink with his breath and slipped it into his favourite book.

The walk to the dungeons was quick and uninterrupted as the moon slowly rose higher into the night sky, nearly directly above Camelot. There were guards, of course, but they weren't a hindrance as never looked into alcoves during night duty. Those guarding the dungeons were seated at a table, as always, and were the easiest to dispatch.

Through the siege tunnels with the soft glow emitting from his staff, he quickly slipped into the forest. Extinguishing the light from the crystal Merlin followed the telepathic connection between him and the youngest dragon. It took a moment before Merlin could sense that Aithusa was quite a distance, but for the most part was remaining stationary.

Merlin spent three days on foot as he travelled towards Aithusa's whereabouts. By day he slept in caves or thick areas of forest where he was less vulnerable to attack, and by night he continued his journey south. On the third night he covered many leagues, and as the sun was peeking out from the horizon bathing the sky in pinks, yellows and purples, he realised where he'd gone. To his right was the mouth of The Valley of the Fallen Kings, and in front of him in the distance hints of the sea could be seen.

"_Good morning, Aithusa,"_

"_Merlin?"_ she replied in surprise _"What are you doing here?"_

"_If I remained in Arthur's service I'll never convince him to free magic. How can I prove anything to him if he never listens? No, I must _show_ Arthur,"_ he explained glumly.

"_I understand, Merlin," _she conceded sympathetically _"There's someone I'd like you to meet. He's a very kind boy and I think you've met him once before,"_

Following the connection, Merlin continued south and a league later came upon a small coastal village. Off to the side of the hovels Merlin could see a young man practicing swordcraft against an imaginary opponent. However it wasn't a moment later that a dozen bandits came charging in from the west, weapons held high and loud war cries.

Ducking behind the nearest hovel he dropped his bag and removed the staff from between the straps. "Áhelle cristalla. Áscilde cristalla," Merlin incanted causing the staff to take on the look and strength of a quarterstaff. As the swordsman fought against the incoming bandits, it was evident he was unaware of the one sneaking up behind him. Dashing over Merlin knocked out the sneaky one with a swift swing to the temple. The young man spun in alarm and nearly gutted Merlin at the sound of impact.

Realising who this was Merlin briefly smiled before returning to the matter at hand "Good to see you Gilli," he greeted before jabbing a bandit in the chest, knocking him to the ground, who's throat Gilli quickly slit. "I wish it was under better circumstances though."

"It's been a while," the younger man commented before taking the lead against the bandits, acting as offense while Merlin defended him from behind. As he acted as defence Merlin would use magic to assist the others by moving heavy objects and heating the swords of the bandits.

By the end of it the ground was littered with the dead from both sides and the remaining villagers began moving the bandits' bodies towards the village cart. They now needed to pull it themselves since the horses had been stolen earlier on in the attack.

It almost seemed to be routine how they separated the bodies and took the bandits' away to be stripped of anything valuable. Following Gilli's lead Merlin assisted by building pyres for the dead villagers while the living wept their losses. Once everything was complete Merlin stood with the people of Nefeir as they paid their respects for the fallen defenders.

Nefeir was silent as the people milled about their fields, wives and their children cried quietly as they worked, growing their crops before winter made it impossible. Meanwhile Gilli and Merlin stood in the newly bloodstained watchtower, using their magic to see the path ahead.

It was then that Merlin saw the difference between Gilli now and when they'd first met. The younger man had shed some weight and was now a reasonably muscled fighter, no longer looking like the young, slightly chubby boy that had competed in one of Camelot's tournaments.

"Have you seen a dragon in the last few days?" Gilli asked curiously, turning towards Merlin slightly.

"I haven't _seen_ a dragon but I've used telepathy with one. Why?" he replied without taking his eye off the terrain too much.

"Nothing. I thought I saw one just a moment ago," Gilli commented with a slightly guarded expression, before turning his full attention to Merlin. "Wait, you've spoken with one?" he said in surprise.

"I never told you, did I?" he asked rhetorically. "I'm a dragonlord, Gilli, I can contact them if I need help," he explained with a soft smile.

Relaxing against the railing he turned to Gilli "It is nice to simply be able to talk about magic like this. My mother was constantly concerned, and rightly so; my guardian in Camelot would repeatedly give warnings; and not knowing how Arthur would react if I told him is always on my mind. My whole life has felt like I couldn't breathe properly," he confided.

"You said 'them', how many are there?" he asked turning back to the trees.

"Two. A very old and large, golden male, I've known him the longest. The other is a young white female about our size," Merlin said with fondness. They were quiet for a time to ensure they didn't upset the other villagers, or lead them to believe they were slacking off.

"What brought you out here, Merlin? I thought your home was Camelot," he remarked nudging the travel bag sitting in the corner.

He frowned at the reminder of what'd happened "My progress with Arthur has come to a halt," he admitted. "Gilli, the only progress made in the last year was Arthur swearing to respect the druids to a restless spirit. I've made none of my own. It's like I take one step forward and ten backwards," he gripped the wood in frustration, his shoulders tensing as his knuckles whitened. Once his emotions had subsided Merlin looked back up at the other man. "His perception of me is an idiot. A person who's opinion and suggestions means nothing. I've tried to guide him, but it seems he needs to make mistakes to learn anything."

Stepping back from the railing Merlin let go of the wood and sighed "Please, can we not talk about it? I fear I'll lose control of my magic and who knows what'll happen."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When the sun was finally down they went inside Gilli's home and began preparing for the evening. Merlin, who was too tired after a day of no sleep and relying on his magic to stay awake, made for a vacant corner and set out his bedroll. Within minutes the warlock was dead to the world. Gilli who'd seen the entire process hadn't expected any differently after Merlin had explained his journey whilst they were on sentry duty.

He'd expected his fellow warlock to be too tired to eat by the end of the day, and had deliberately delayed lunch, so neither of them would be hungry in the evening. Gilli had heard Merlin's story of the years since the Decennial Tournament that'd brought him to Camelot, and felt sorry for him. So much effort and so little improvement had reduced Merlin's hope of achieving destiny to almost nothing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning Merlin woke to the smell of food wafting in his new home. Once he'd risen from his deep sleep Merlin dragged his feet over to the small table, where Gilli was looking at him with an amused expression.

"I get the impression you don't rise with the sun when you get a normal amount of sleep," he remarked with a knowing look before beginning his porridge.

"I was so busy protecting his royal pratness that I never got proper sleep to start with. Gaius always woke me," Merlin admitted as he sat down. "You're dragon comment yesterday," he began after beginning his meal. "Once we tend to the crops would you like to see Aithusa? She's the white dragon, but somehow I get the feeling you've already met,"

Gilli just smiled.

That night the two men spent a few hours talking to Aithusa in the cover of darkness, and a half hour's walk from the village. Tasked with keeping an eye on Camelot the white dragon took to the night sky and was soon out of sight.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Over the next few days Gilli introduced Merlin to his neighbours, and both were thanked by the widows for their efforts during the attack. When time had rolled around to noon, after hours of tending to the crops, he led Merlin to the grassed area where he regularly practiced swordcraft, with his normal and spare sword. The armour the pair wore were of reasonable quality considering the majority had come from the now dead bandits.

Each day the two would spar in the afternoon, exchanging tricks, sharing what they'd seen, which improved the weaknesses of their skill.

It was after a week all this that Gilli commented on Merlin's ability.

"Could you fight like this when we first met?" he asked, a little impressed "I didn't think you would have a fighting ability back then,"

"Not as good as I am now. I've always pretended to be weaker for two reasons. One, I could hide during an attack and use magic without suspicion. And two, I didn't want Arthur getting ideas on the training grounds. He's quite demanding on his knights when he trains them. I wouldn't have the energy for both servant and what he expects of them during training," was the reply when Merlin went on the offensive. "You tend to pick things up when you're around them constantly," he commented.

Gilli countered his feign and had his spar partner under pressure with a flurry of attacks "You'll need as much skill and many tricks up your sleeves as possible here, Merlin," he advised, giving Merlin a short reprieve as the man looked liable to trip due to lack of breath.

He stabbed his blade into the grass letting his breath level out "This village is frequently attacked by bandits. It's the location that makes it such a prime target, any message to the king would be a wasted effort due to distance. The only defence is ourselves, which wasn't a problem until the attack when you arrived. We had a good number of men defending this village, however most of them were cut down. There were just too many that time."

"What about soldiers? Surely there'd be some posted here?" Merlin asked in confusion.

"When there were soldiers, the village was left alone by the bandits. As word got back to the king saying that there weren't any bandit attacks, the soldiers were withdrawn," Gilli provided whilst lifting his sword once more. "It's happened twice already. We're alone in this matter," and the young men resumed their training.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A few weeks passed before another attack on the village occurred. In that time, Merlin had taught Gilli as much magical knowledge as he could, to which Gilli returned the favour with swordcraft. Life was very routine at Nefeir as they tended to crops and trained themselves. Never once had Aithusa reported anything from the city but had occasionally flown down and talked with the warlocks, sometimes arriving with a few dead bandits which they looted. The bodies weren't a problem thanks to Aithusa dropping them into The Valley of the Fallen Kings, a place full of the superstition of danger, when she left for Camelot.

The attack had hadn't been very difficult for the two to deal with.

The sun was on the cusp of setting when the northern bell sounded. Gilli and Merlin, in their haste, threw caution to the wind and quickly dressed using magic to aid them, within moments the pair were in armour and swords being unsheathed from their belts.

"You take the right and I'll take the left?" Gilli suggested before the pair split up.

As neighbours fled for the woods the young men approached the dozen raiders at a run and exploited the darkness as they fought. Merlin, who was still learning, used magic to throw opponents that he couldn't handle into hard objects whilst combatting the efforts of the others foes. Currently he was capable of handling two at a time, but only just, and was hard pressed to maintain keeping the other four away.

"Ah!" he cried but gritted his teeth before casting the men away into carts and the like. In a moment of hesitation his upper arm had been slashed where the mismatching armour wasn't protecting him.

Gilli seemed to come out of nowhere "Duck!" he shouted, and not a moment later Merlin's foes were reduced to five. For the most part Gilli assisted by keeping the other three occupied but otherwise left Merlin to fight his own battle. One time Merlin had been knocked to the ground but with a little help from Gilli, he had the chance to get back up and continue.

Gilli slapped the back of Merlin's uninjured shoulder "Good work, Merlin. You're getting better, but remember 'Never-" he told him as they made for the eastern tower to give the safety signal.

"'-Take your eye off the target,'" Merlin completed the saying that had been drilled into his mind since their first day of training.

That night once Merlin's injuries were tended to and everyone was back home, they went to sleep knowing the attack was over and the village was safe for another night.

However the next one, a month later, was too much for them.

Quickly refreshing themselves with a drink from the well, Merlin and Gilli put on their mismatching armour with help from each other. Walking out of the hovel and towards the grass to train, the two happily bantered about who'd be bested today when the western watchtower bell sounded through the village. Everyone knew what the outcome would be and didn't waste time in grouping together before fleeing for the woods. A few had hesitated at the prospect of leaving the two behind, but with meaningful looks from the two men, the lingering few ran for the woods in hopes of putting distance between themselves and danger.

At the previous village meeting Merlin and Gilli had announced they'd stay behind to keep the next horde at bay, the others had protested not wanting the young men to condemn themselves to death, however they couldn't persuade them to change their minds. The pair had told the others they'd find them if the village survived, but many of them believed the pair's valiant decision was futile. Merlin and Gilli knew otherwise; they'd have better odds of saving their home with the others out of the way, enabling them to use magic without forcing their neighbours to choose between two young men and their king.

However the village seemed fated to burn. No matter how in sync the two fought; no matter how aggressively they fought; no matter how much magic they used, the outcome couldn't be changed.

When it felt as though all hope was lost and they only had the energy to use their blades, help arrived. A patrol in the form of half a dozen knights and the king appeared, cantering towards the fight, however it was too late to save the village as the remains of the hovels smouldered while the fight continued.

The patrol quickly charged the bandits and dispatched those that hadn't fallen, greatly assisting the two warlocks.

"_I'm not looking forward to this, Gilli,"_ Merlin said to him while he removed his helmet, setting himself down against the well to catch his breath.

Gilli didn't get a chance to reply due to an outburst of surprise.

"_Merlin_?" the king exclaimed as he walked closer to the pair to get a better look. The two men could see the hope in King Arthur's eye.

"Your Highness," Merlin replied stiffly, standing up to give the customary bow. Arthur frowned, suddenly losing the optimism he'd held not a moment ago.

For a few minutes it appeared as though the king was trying to say something, however he said nothing and only stared before pulling himself out of his stupor when he seemed to realise what he'd been doing. Turning to his knights, he gave out commands to the patrol who fanned out and began searching through the bandits to see if any had been wanted fugitives.

Gilli squeezed Merlin's shoulder. "I'm sorry, mate," he murmured, as he too had expected something better than that from King Arthur.

Hiding his hurt and disappointment as best he could, Merlin picked up his discarded helmet before walking off. Gilli wordlessly following behind him as a show of support. Once out of sight they used their magic to see the way ahead and hurried towards a straggling pair of armoured bandits, evidently dying from a heavy loss of blood. The warlocks arrived a moment too late to question them and Merlin, who didn't want to be pursued like a hunted fugitive, did a convincing piece of magic before leaving the dead bodies behind.

Leaving the reasonably happy past of living in Nefeir behind them, the pair teleported to Aithusa, not knowing what else to do.

The only clue that the clearing had once been Nefeir was the half-destroyed well and the fields where crops were partially grown. All villagers, old and new, were gone.

When Arthur had finally regained the confidence to find Merlin and speak to him, Arthur followed their tracks until he found something that would be forever burned into his mind.

There was no light in the deceased former manservant and his friend's eyes.

He was too late.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

In a small tavern that evening, half a day's walk to the east of Nefeir, the usual rowdiness was absent as new people had poured in hiring rooms for the night. A nomad noble with a love for mead, had been travelling for two months searching for his one friend, was listening to the stories from newcomers who'd lost their homes less than a day ago. When they'd spoken of those who'd fallen from the attack, he hung his head in grief and was silent for a moment, paying what respect he could to his fallen friend. He'd seen the smoke rising from the west while riding his horse, there was no denying the story was true. Finishing his tankard, the noble went outside and stared into the distance, his mind full of 'what if's' as he absently stroke his mare's mane.

He looked to the north, towards Camelot, knowing what his friend would want him to do.

Gaius needed to know.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

R&R


End file.
